I’m not saying that it’s a boring class. Well, I
am, but it’s just that with all the other things that
we have to deal with on a daily basis, it’s nice to
be able to space-out for once through something
that’s largely irrelevant. Or at least you try to. We
have a biology teacher who is a little out there.

Good teacher, mind you. I just think that
when God was handing out brains, our biology
teacher got one that had a little label on it that
said, “Do Not Use if Seal is Broken.” And it was.
And he did.

It does keep things interesting. Every now
and then, you’ll be dozing, trying to find a comfortable
position at the impossibly uncomfortable
desks. I had one of these old school desks
left over from the sixties (as evidenced by the
substandard workmanship) in the back of the
room.

The seat was a bland, yum-yum yellow shade,
and the legs curved down and around the basket.
It was more or less a table mounted on top of a
sled. The temptation to steal it and take it down
a frozen, snow-covered hill was enormous.
(Unfortunately, someone else stole it before I got
the chance. Possibly one of the janitors.) You’re
sitting back there, your eyes barely open, your
head pressed against the side bar as you slouch
down as far as possible. You’re just at that point
that you might fall asleep, and you hear the
teacher say something like, “People! It’s hard to
kill a deer with a stick!” Okay, I’ll bite – what is
it that you’re trying to teach?

You would be amazed as to how easy it is to
fall asleep in that class. At no time was it easier
than at the beginning of the year, when the heat
of summer and the wearisome lecture of the day
made for an unmitigated
snooze-fest.
“Fallasleepa-palooza,”
if you will. No matter
how hot it was outside,
it was forbidden to
open the windows, so
as to not let the hot air
in. This, in our instructor’s
logic, kept the
room cooler. How,
then, did it become
the most sweltering
enclosure in the entire
school? I’m not sure if
this guy is familiar
with the theory of the greenhouse effect, but I
think someone should enlighten him. The whole
thing made drowsiness unavoidable. I remember
sitting there in the back of the room on one such
day, during fourth period. We weren’t allowed to
put our heads down on the desk, so I was doing
my best to prop my head to the side on my right
arm. In that position, the Sandman was more
than happy to come over and slap me silly.

What felt like several hours later, I awoke
from an otherworldly getaway. My first speculation
was that, judging by what my senses told
me, it was sixth period, and that this day was
lasting for several eons on end. I then noticed
that I was considerably famished, and wondered
to myself as to how I could have possibly forgotten
to eat lunch during fifth. Then I looked at the
clock. “Dammit! We’re still here? We’ve been here
forever!”

Two years of high school was all it took to
mess up every aspect of my sleep cycle. At the
same time, my dreams started becoming more
realistic and reality started becoming more unreal.
Yes, I will admit it. Call me crazy, but I’m having
more and more difficulty distinguishing the
difference between what’s reality and what’s not.